


Just the Thing

by pinebluffvariant



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s06e06 How the Ghosts Stole Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinebluffvariant/pseuds/pinebluffvariant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miraculously, they’re sitting on his couch, shaking gift boxes together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just the Thing

Mulder thought he’d be alone tonight, having driven himself home through endless empty streets and picked up some takeout at the halal kabob place that’s open 24/7 365, even on Muslim holidays: just perfect for a lonely atheist who doesn’t cook, doesn’t date, doesn’t try. 

But then she’s there, at his door with a little lemony pout on her face and a lame excuse of insomnia. Why are you here at midnight, he thinks. Why didn’t you just come home with me, he also thinks but slaps the thought away.

Lately there’s been a torque inside him, cranking and cranking and cranking until he’s wound tight and slightly deranged, until he does things like call her out to a haunted house on Christmas Eve, telling a genuinely pathetic tall tale to make her roll her eyes extra hard, sigh at him extra loud. He’ll do anything lately go get her here, lure her into his space. He wants her attention and her breath to seep into his pores and stay there forever, change him at a cellular level.

He hands her the Christmas cracker package and doesn’t point out that he wrapped it himself, that’s why it’s such a mess. Then she pulls out a box from her coat pocket. Later he’ll flash back to this moment, at the loneliest times - she drove across town in the middle of the night to sneak into his place and give him a present.

Miraculously, they’re sitting on his couch, shaking gift boxes together.

“I’d offer you Christmas ham,” he says, “but all I’ve got is half a lamb shawarma.”

“I can’t stay,” she says, “but maybe I’ll have a bite.”

What is this improbable domesticity? Her toes are under his coffee table, her greedy little smile beaming at the package in her hand. “Go ahead,” he encourages.

She tears the wrapping paper, and it’s the sloppiest thing he’s ever seen her do. Incredible. She closes her eyes when she unwraps presents. File this one under "Adorable Scully things I maybe one day, one day, get to tease her about", he thinks. "That’s a nice idea but it’ll never happen", his insecure side supplies. "Shut the fuck up", cocky, confident Mulder counters. He turns his attention back to the little fierce gift opener next to him on the couch.

“A succulent!” Scully exclaims. It’s a tiny spiky thing in a little white pot. She holds it in her palm, scrutinizing it theatrically for his benefit. “It’s so… cute!”

Mulder reaches over and pricks his finger on the sharp spiny top of the little plant. “It reminded me of you.”

“How so?” She’s suspicious. “No short or prickly jokes, Mulder. I came over for a nice time.” She smiles, though, and he knows it’s all good. It’s all good with them tonight.

“No, just… You can keep it in the office. Put it under the skylight and then get up on the stepladder like you like to do to water it. Talk to it, maybe. Tell it government secrets. Maybe tell it your secret desires. ”

She flops back against the back of the couch, loose-limbed and playful. "But Mulder, I already have a confidant.” Her glittering eyes are inviting him inside, but her body remains a distance away.

“I hope you mean me,” he says, feigning insecurity.

“I do mean you. Now open your present.”

Her wrapping job is much better than his. He makes a show of carefully dancing his fingers over the wrapper, plays a little with the curly ribbon, and undoes the tape gingerly. Inside is one… two, three, four… eight bars of chocolate. One Hersheys, the rest expensive Swiss things. He can taste the dark bittersweetness on his tongue.

Looking up at her, her eyes still glitter, but now they’re wicked.

“You know what I like,” Mulder croons in an attempt to regain the upper hand. If the succulent was silly and teasing, the chocolate is… what is it?

She leans across the space between them on the couch, puts her hand on his knee and scoots closer. Since when does she lean into him like this? Emboldened, he wraps his arm around the back of the couch and gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Scully.” She nods and smiles and looks him straight in the eye.

They sit there, sort of snuggling, but definitely not snuggling, for a minute. Finally, she shifts a little, away from his arm, and turns around to sit on the coffee table facing him. “Now,” Scully says, “pay attention. What I want you to do- Mulder, are you paying attention?”

He isn’t. He’s thinking about how the chocolate would taste if he sipped it from her mouth. His lips open a touch, involuntarily. He knows it makes him look really, really very stupid and goofy.

“Yes, sorry, go on.”

“What I want you to do is take these chocolate bars,” she taps her fingernails on the confection that rests on Mulder’s lap, “and put them in your cupboard. Not on one of the high shelves. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I want you to get used to the idea that not everybody is six feet tall. And that those people also need access in the kitchen. Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeats.

“Good. I gotta go.”

She throws him an enigmatic smile and a pat on the head before standing up, pocketing her succulent, and leaving without another word.

He sees the negative image of that smile every single time he blinks, on the inside of his eyelids. It’s a reminder.

On Christmas morning, Mulder rearranges his kitchen cabinets, his book case, his bathroom cabinet. The chocolate goes next to the coffee, the good soap next to the toothpaste, his dogeared copy of Gray’s Anatomy next to the remote control.

He starts keeping green apples in a bowl on the coffee table. He trains himself to sleep on one side of the bed. He waits.


End file.
